


Tattoos

by Drownedinlight



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Fem!nico, Rule 63, Tattoo!Nico, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 03:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3275714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drownedinlight/pseuds/Drownedinlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Curious how something as simple as a tunic changes things. Hades didn’t see the tattoo at first, not really.</p>
<p>Five times Hades noticed one of Nico's tattoos and the one time she didn't bother hiding them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tattoos

**Author's Note:**

> I think it was Viria who first began the tattoo!Nico au, and now everyone is doing it. I started writing this, oh, a year ago I think. I had it mostly finished too, it was literally just waiting. Fem!Nico for fun, because I have immense fun writing fem!Nico. Unbeta'd but hopefully still enjoyable.

1\. Kinsukuroi

Nico often wore long sleeves and jeans whenever she could, so Hades didn’t see the tattoo on her wrist until spring had sprung in her sixteenth year. She appeared in the underworld at his summoning, still wearing jeans, but instead of her usual long sleeved tee-shirt and bomber jacket, Nico wore a plain but richly dyed purple tunic, which’s sleeves ended at her shoulders.

Curious how something as simple as a tunic changes things. Hades didn’t see the tattoo at first, not really. Instead, he saw how his daughter had grown. She stood taller than she had on her birthday, her body had a swell and a curve to it she had not possessed before. Her long, curly hair shone even in the faint light of the Underworld and she had only pinned some of it onto the back of her head to keep it out of her face, the rest falling free well past her shoulders. Nico looked like her mother, Hades thought.

“My lord,” said Nico with a bow. “And what may I do for you this day?”

“I want to have some flowers sent to your stepmother,” Hades said. He held out a slip of parchment to her. “Go and order these for me and have them delivered to the address I provided.”

Nico approached and took the parchment from him, which was when Hades saw it. The moment the slip of paper had left his hand, he reached out and grabbed her wrist. “What is this?” he asked, turning the slender wrist over in his hand. The letters k-i-n-t-s-u-k-u-r-o-i stood spelled out in Nico’s own curly script.

“Um, it’s a style of Japanese pottery,” Nico explained.

“Why did you get Japanese pottery tattooed on your wrist?” Hades asked.

“The pottery is broken and then repaired with a golden lacquer.” Nico rolled her shoulders and pulled her hand from his grasp. “It implies that something is more beautiful for having been broken.”

Hades leveled a long look at his child. Nico would not return his gaze. “Are you broken, Nico?” he asked at last.

Her eyes flicked up so that she could look at him through her lashes. “Not anymore,” she said. “I’ll make sure Stepmother gets her flowers. Is there anything else you need of me, Father?”

“No,” said Hades. “You may go.”

 

2\. The Aeneid

Nico started wearing a gold band over her one tattoo—a gift from Hazel, she claimed. But Hades noticed another appear on her arm some time after mid-summer, as Nico bore her arms more and more often. He could not get a good look at it from far away, but it looked something like a band around her arm.

One day, as she sits reading in Persephone’s garden, she caught him staring. Nico looked up from the book and their dark eyes met across the roots of the pomegranate trees. “Is there something you needed, Father?”

Hades doesn’t need anything. He wished the dead did not flow in such great numbers. (Thanatos has convened with Osiris and Hel on two separate occasions, along with others, and they all think that humans just need one good plague and maybe they’ll stop reproducing exponentially. But that was neither here nor there in regards to his child). No errands came to mind. Still he reached out a hand to her, “Come here, Nicolina.”

Nico rose from where she sat, dusting the seat of her jeans as she did, and walked to him. Hades reached out, and she instinctively knew what he wanted. “It had better be fake,” he said, though as his fingers ran across the raised ink, he knew it wasn’t.

Nico rolled her eyes at him. “Alright, Dad, it’s fake.”

Hades snorted. “What is it, anyway?”

“The gates of hell.” She says so, matter of factly. “‘Sate sanguine divom, Tros Anchisiade, facilis descensus Averno; noctes atque dies patet atri ianua Ditis; sed revocare gradum superasque evadere ad auras, hoc opus, hic labor est.’” Hades after a bit of a closer look sees that the words make up a gate. Rather artfully done. “I wanted an armband, so I thought that fit. Do you really not like it?”

“It’s your body, I suppose,” Hades replied, letting her arm drop. “But I would worry about the sort of service one may receive from an artist who tattoos an underage young woman.”

“My artist is the perfectly reputable sort, I promise,” said Nico.

“Hmmph,” Hades muttered. “You’ve been down here a while. Go and get something to eat in the upper world.”

Nico bowed to him and shadow traveled away.

Hades did not see her Hell’s Gate tattoo until the next spring, and even then, all that appeared before him was a blank patch of skin most of the time. Nico, apparently, knew enough about makeup to hide her tattoos. The thought gave Hades pause to wonder if she had more.

 

3\. Poppies

She did.

Hades did not see them until Autumn, when Persephone came home. A joyous mood had struck him, and Hades wanted to celebrate her return. He had meant a feast, a good dinner, but somehow Persephone turned that into a masque. Hades didn’t mind so much, even if his brothers were here in his realm, drinking his good wine. He too was drinking his good wine and dancing away the night with his wife and there was nothing anyone could say to him about it.

Hera, or so the peacock mask had indicated, had pulled him aside for a chat with he saw her. Nico entered in through the pillars of the ballroom. She looked taller, was she taller? Or was she simply no longer slouching? She looked older too... She had swept her curly hair into a mass on her head, little curls dropping from here and there. Her face was covered by a mask, but her lips had been painted a pretty pink.

And her dress—where had Nico gotten such a dress? It was lilac with golden flowers scattered across the silken fabric as if the wind had just blown them off of a tree. A gold band belted the dress high up, right under her breasts. And, dear Styx! There was only so much cloth covering her breasts, and—he saw as Nico turned—there was practically no back to this dress!

“Who is that?” Hera asked.

Hades blinked. She must have followed his gaze to where Nico stood across the room, where she now stood talking to Thanatos. He took her hand and kissed it gesturing to the dance floor. Nico shook her head, curls flying with her.

“Oh, Nico’s here at last,” said Persephone. She curled one arm around Hades’ waist, and brought the other into her chest around her glass of wine. “It’s a good thing she decided to listen to me. I told her not to wear black. I wonder where she got it though, her dress, I mean.”

Thanatos steps in front of his view of Nico.

“A Ziad Nakad, isn’t it?” Aphrodite asked, appearing by their side.

“Zuhair Muraid,” said Persephone. “He’s one of Nico’s favorites.”

The two of them slide out onto the dance floor. Nico is as graceful as she is beautiful. If she reminded him of Maria before, she certainly does now.

“I can hardly believe it. That beauty is the scrawny wisp of a girl Hades sired?” Hera asked. “My how she’s grown. Hades will be beating back the young men—”

“And the young women,” Aphrodite added, before she took a deep drink of her wine.

“Well, the respectable ones, at least.” Hera giggled. “Of course, when she looks like that, Nico could have anyone she wanted. I’ll bet she has.”

“Persephone, will you come and dance with me?” Hades asked.

Persephone giggled. “Of course, darling!” She set the wine glass in her head on a nearby table and he led them both onto the dance floor. It was only when they found a steady twirling rate among the others occupying the floor did Persephone whisper in his ear, “You’re such a jealous father. I don’t know why but it pleases me.”

“I am not!” he hissed.

“Oh, but you are, darling. Can’t stand that Nico looks like a woman now, can you, love? Can’t stand how everyone is looking at her, or how she looks in that dress.” Persephone laughed at him again; Hades could feel the frown on his face and knew why. “Let’s get close enough and you can cut in.”

When they have gotten close enough, Persephone gracefully swept Thanatos away, leaving Nico in her father’s arms. “Seriously?” Nico asked, when they picked up a rhythm again. “We really were just dancing, Dad.”

“I know,” said Hades. “Thanatos is one of the few people here I trust. I just...wanted to dance with my daughter.”

A smile lit up her face, and she stood on her tip toes to kiss his cheek. “You’re kinda sweet when you want to be.”

He brushed a stray curl behind her ear, and then he noticed the poppy flower in full bloom there. It took almost the rest of the dance, but Hades also saw the second flower behind her other ear. He had also decided not to say anything, but Persephone and Thanatos rejoined them when the waltz ended. It took Persephone less than a minute to notice. “Are those for me?” she asked, swiping a finger behind Nico’s ear.

“Something like that,” said Nico with a laugh.

Persephone smacked a wet kiss on Nico’s cheek leaving behind a lipstick mark. “Come, let’s go and gossip. Hades, my darling, my king, behave for me please, and Thanatos lovely dance, thank you.”

 

4\. Paw-print

Nico’s taking off a sweater when Hades sees the pawprint of a rather large dog (a hellhound, he thinks after a moment) inked onto her hip.

“Why do you need so many?” he asked.

“So many what?” asked Nico in reply, her eyes glued to the map he had laid out before her.

“Tattoos.” He pressed a finger into the pawprint. “This is your fourth isn’t it? Why do you keep getting them?”

Nico shrugged. “I keep finding reasons.”

“You need to stop,” Hades said firmly.

“It’s my body, like you said.” Nico furrowed her brow. “What’s wrong with a paw print anyway?”

Hades couldn’t say.

 

5\. Inventory

When he saw the bandage on Nico’s left arm he lost it.

It wasn’t like he couldn’t see how she covered both her wrists now, or how she wore nothing less than tee-shirts or things that covered her whole torso. Hades wasn’t stupid.

Still screaming out, “Nicolina di Angelo, I swear on the River Styx if you get one more fucking tattoo before you’re eighteen, you do not want to know what I will do to you!” in the middle of his throne room was probably a bit much.

Everyone stood shell shocked.

Nico looked up at him blinking. She shrugged. “Okay.” Then she spun on her heel and walked out of the room.

“Where do you think you are going?” Hades asked.

“To wash off the make-up covering the tattoos you don’t know about,” Nico said with a little wave. “I figure it’s best if we take inventory now.”

Hades fumed.

“Don’t sulk,” said Persephone. “She’s seventeen. Almost a grown woman.”

“Almost, but she’s not,” Hades said. “And she should listen to me, I’m her father. AND she’s breaking the law.”

“And you’re upset that your daughter grew up without you looking, and chooses to put physical reminders that she does what she wants, with or without your assent on her body, and you have to look at them all the time,” Persephone added. When he scowled she reached between their thrones and kissed his nose. “I do love you, dearest.”

“Why did we get married again?” asked Hades, even as he took her hand in his.

“Something about how we were both lonely but completed one another,” said Persephone. She squeezed his hand with hers.

Nico returned about half an hour later, unadorned and wearing a tee-shirt she had cut the back out of...and part of the front, which showed her collar bone, where a skewed compass rose had been etched on her skin.

“Did you have a reason for that, or did it just look pretty?” he asked.

“It reminds me to go home, occasionally, to everyone who I love, and who loves me,” said Nico. She held out her right wrist to show him an evil eye. “That one I got when I was dating the witch, more for practical purposes than anything else. But it’s also pretty, so there’s that.”

Then she turned around, and Hades understood why she had cut up the tee-shirt.

Just below Nico’s shoulder perch a murder of crows. A few flap their wings, one flies in the distance, but several were content to sit in the leaves or branches of a tree which is only partially complete. “The tree isn’t finished,” he observed.

“It’s a big fuckin’ tree, Dad. Stuff like that takes time.” She looked over her shoulder so he could see her roll her eyes. “And now that I’m not getting any new stuff until January, it’s gonna stay half done for a while.”

“Why this one?” Hades asked.

Nico shrugged a little, nibbling her lip. “I got the center one first—”

“When?”

“When I was nearly fourteen, after we won the second Titanomachy,” Nico replied.

Hades could see it, where the ink had stretched with Nico’s still growing body. “Go on.”

“Well, that one felt lonely, so I got it a friend. And then I got it some more. And then the murder wanted a tree to sit in—”

“The tattoos don’t speak to you, do they?” Persephone asked.

Nico laughed. “No, I’m far from the Illustrated Man.”

“Not that far,” Hades mumbled. He cleared his throat. “Anything else?”

Nico spins around. “Yes, but don’t get scandalized.” She undid her belt and dropped her pants in front of his throne, lifting up her shirt in the same moment.

“Nico!” Persephone scolded.

But Hades saw them before he could have time to get upset at his daughter’s exposition. on her ribs, just below her heart, began a series of dates. “January 28, 1932,” he traced the symbols with his thumb. “The day you were born.”

Nico nodded. “All of the important dates so far,” she said. “The first memory I have of you, when Mama died, when I found out I was a demi-god again.”

“You seem to have a sharp enough memory without permanently inking yourself,” Hades retorted as she pulled up her pants.

“It’s just to keep a little perspective, Dad,” she told him. “To remind myself of the big occasions when I feel like I’m drowning in the minutiae.”

“Humph,” Hades grumbled. He reached for the bandage on her arm. “And what’s this?”

Nico protested, but he pulled it off before she could stop him. On her sword arm, just above her elbow, face out, was a black helm. Hades knew it for what it was at an instant. “My helm...and...” Beneath the helm were the words written in neat Greek script: Daughter of Hades. “I highly doubt you could forget this,” said Hades.

“More a point of pride than remembrance,” Nico said. “And now I have to go wash it, because you took the bandage off.” She kissed his cheek and bowed low before him. “My lord and my lady.”

“Well,” said Persephone, as Nico strode from the room. “I suppose that’s that.”

Hades grumbled on his throne. “For now,” he said, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips.

 

\+ Family Tree

The downside to Hades knowing about all of Nico’s tattoos was that she started to wear...more revealing clothing. He caught Thanatos flirting with her more than once, and wondered if he is wise to put so much trust in his lieutenant. Still, as much as he regreted having no say, Hades knew that he didn't have a say. That Nico can handle herself in the end brings him a little comfort. 

Her eighteenth birthday revealed no announcements of unplanned grandchildren (thank whatever power was higher than he), and Nico was still deciding what to do with her life.

Hades does not miss the details that are filled in on the tree at Nico’s birthday party when she wears a low back dress.

“What?” she asked him when she noticed his scowl. “I’m eighteen now, and it was looking wretched half done. You know it, I know it. My artist knew it.”

“I suppose this isn’t the end, though,” Hades asked.

“The end? Probably not,” said Nico. “Besides, why should it be the end? Really, it’s only the beginning.”

Hades rolled his eyes. But he still bent down so Nico could press a kiss to his cheek, and did his best not to grumble at her tattoos.

 

 


End file.
